


Decrescendo Concerto of Moriarty - Before the Fall

by DontAsaltSnails



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Astronomy References, Classical music idk, Depression, Gen, Inspired by Music, Loneliness, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Pre-Reichenbach, Suicide mention, music references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9641429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontAsaltSnails/pseuds/DontAsaltSnails
Summary: The night before the fall, and Moriarty can't rest yet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not super shippy, pretty angsty. Please read the tags for warnings.
> 
> Also note, that in no way am I a musician- I used a dictionary to use the terms.
> 
> Enjoy!

He laid there staring at the ceiling with empty black holes. Late nights were always like this for James Moriarty, he handled his business for the day. Thus, he laid there not quite awake, yet so far from asleep, a hollow shell of the genius professor he had been once. Things had become so dull, so lifeless, and that is how he felt. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was after 4-in-the-morning. He didn’t need to look at his phone to know who had just texted him at this time of night, silly sniper; who did he think he was to check up on Moriarty?

James sighed at the thought to himself. He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to ponder without more distraction- Life wasn’t about running from pain- it was about embracing it.. Letting it be part of you, the agony of it all. _Life_.

Jim opened dark eyes, and he was ready- He was ready for the final crescendo: his final problem. He grinned to himself as a tear slipped, it wasn’t about the pain, not really. It was truly about being ready for death, and he was, he was because tomorrow the fall would take place. No more loneliness, no more pain, no more emptiness.. Because soon, James Moriarty would be scattered across the cosmos- taken far and wide, and it would be perfect. He would doze off as the sun rose to the thought of the pistol in his nightstand and tomorrow’s performance on the rooftop. Jim Moriarty’s _final_ performance -soon he could rest among the astral beings so high above.

His phone lit again, but he hadn’t noticed, he was too busy musing his fall. He was ready for the end, his end.

. . .

He didn’t care to acknowledge the only two souls that would mourn his death for the rest of their years: his soulmate and his tiger.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments welcomed


End file.
